


Through a Window, Or, the Trans-Dimensional Threesome

by Kelyon



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi, Storybrooke, The Dark Castle (Once Upon a Time), Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 14:06:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17163356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelyon/pseuds/Kelyon
Summary: On a day when she feels that she has no future, Belle gets a glimpse of the love that is coming to her.





	Through a Window, Or, the Trans-Dimensional Threesome

“Girl!” The Dark One’s voice resounded through the halls of his castle. “Girl!”

Obedient but unafraid, Rumpelstiltskin’s maid entered the Great Hall. “My name is Belle,” she said, gripping her broom.

“I have more important things to worry about than your name, dearie!” He snapped. “Get to the tower and deal with that useless mess.”

“What is it?”

“Nothing that I need. In the meantime, I shall be going out.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“Until I return!”

He didn’t give her a second glance as he strode out the front gates. He kept muttering curses until Belle couldn’t hear him anymore. A few minutes after that, she felt the walls of the Dark Castle relax. The air became stiller, more ordinary, as it always did when he was away. When she was sure that he had gone, Belle began walking to the scullery, to do as he commanded.

It had been a long time since she had seen Rumpelstiltskin so angry. Probably not since that thief had stolen his wand. She had said, then, that there was good in him, and he hadn’t killed the man. Belle had thought that the Dark One would change after that, that he would be kinder to her, or happier with himself. That he would be good. That he would be good to her.

But he wasn’t, not really, and Belle felt foolish for ever hoping that he would. She could see that Rumpelstiltskin was not a demon or a monster. There was good in him, but that didn’t mean he would ever let it show. Just because a man is not a murderer (just because he chose not to kill one man, one time) that doesn’t mean he is faultless. Just because a man shows you a library, that doesn’t mean he’ll give you his heart.

_Of course, a man doesn’t have to give his heart to get mine._

Belle banished the thought from her mind immediately. She didn’t love her master, not really. She was just a lonely girl, and afraid of becoming a lonely woman. She wanted to love a man, and Rumpelstiltskin was the only man she would see for the rest of her life. He didn’t love her. He probably wasn’t capable of love.

But there had been some indications that he noticed her, that he occasionally thought of her as more than a servant. Perhaps he saw her sometimes as a person, and not just as a means of keeping the castle clean. There were signs: little touches, little courtesies, looks that went on longer than they needed to. But all it amounted to in the end was a fantasy. Belle knew that she was alone and desperate for affection, and because of that she would relish any scraps of human decency she could get from any source. But Rumpelstiltskin didn’t love her, and no one else ever would.

She took a breath at the scullery door, made herself think of the task at hand. The tower, he had said. So the mess she’d be cleaning up was a magical experiment that hadn’t worked. Not surprising. Rumpelstiltskin was always searching for new magic, new power.

Belle took a cart from the corner and piled it with equipment for cleaning up magical messes: A tub made of cold iron, with a lid that fit securely on it to contain any potentially dangerous materials. Silver-threaded rags that had been enchanted to resist enchantment. Powders that would absorb unwanted magic. Gloves for Belle to wear, and a mask of waxed fabric that covered her mouth and nose, so that she would breathe no fumes. A leather apron to protect her dress. There were also goggles that would enable her to see objects for what they really were and not what they had been cursed to look like. All magic came at a price, he said, but often the price was nothing more than caution and preparation.

She donned the protective gear, and wheeled the cart to the steps of the tower. After she had gotten herself and the cart securely on the bottom step, she said the magic word (“Please”) and the steps carried her up. When she reached the top of the tower, Belle said the other magic words (“Thank you”) and the stairs stopped moving.

Through her goggles, Belle saw the remains of the experiment on Rumpelstiltskin’s work table. She automatically took the empty vials and measuring utensils and placed them in the iron tub. Later (whenever Rumpelstiltskin came back) he would tell her which items to clean for reuse and which to give to him for disposal.

On the surface of the table was a silvery liquid. It looked like a mirror had melted. Belle pulled down her goggles and took a handful of absorbing powder in her gloved hand. But before she could spread the powder on the table, she looked in to the magic puddle. What she saw made her drop the powder on the floor.

It was herself.

Not her face as she looked in a mirror, but herself in action, in motion. Belle saw her face, and it was passionately kissing the face of a man. 

“Oh,” she said, surprised and fascinated at such an unexpected vision.

As soon as she could break her eyes away, Belle removed the goggles and wiped them with the silver rags. Surely this was a magic trick. It was a mirror that showed her what she desired (Rumpelstiltskin had told her that such a mirror existed) and as soon as her goggles were set to right, she would stop seeing such foolish things.

But when she looked again at the mirror, the only change was that now the man was kissing her. The her in the liquid wore an odd sort of bodice, with buttons in a line down the front. The man went down the line with his mouth, unfastening the buttons as he went. He kissed the skin he exposed, from her navel to the nape of her neck.

Belle leaned heavily against the worktable and kept watching. “Who is that man?” she whispered as her fingers ran against her collarbone. As she gazed at them, entranced, Belle rested her body against the edge of the table. When she dropped her hands away from her neck, she set them on the surface of the silver liquid. It was a few moments before she realized that her hands had gone through the table and into the scene as she watched. 

It would have been sensible for Belle to pull back her hands, to douse the puddle in the magic-absorbing powder, to clean up the experiment and go back to the library and forget about what she had seen.

So of course she reached further into the puddle. She stretched her arms and held her breath as she went through the silvery surface and out the other side.

****

Belle found herself in a small bedchamber. The man and the woman she had seen in the liquid were sitting on the bed. They were half-naked, with their arms around each other, as passionate in life as they had seemed in the image.

Both of them were staring at her.

After brushing off her dress, Belle removed her mask and goggles. She gaped at them, and for a long moment, none of them could speak.

Then, the woman who looked like Belle (only different, Belle could see now. Her hair was dark and wild and why were her lips so red and what were those clothes she was half-wearing?) she turned to the man she loved and said. “Rumple, how is this happening?”

“It’s magic,” Belle explained hurriedly. “The man I work for–the Dark One–he left some concoction for me to clean up and I saw the two of you, and… Who are you?”

The man picked up a cane and limped over to Belle. “May I touch you?” he asked, and Belle nodded before he put a gentle hand on her bare arm. He rubbed her skin, looked into her eyes, examined her gloves and goggles. There was something sweet about his manner. He seemed timid and meek–though he had been anything but when he was making love to the woman.

“You’re real,” he said at last.

“Who are you?” Belle repeated.

“Call me… Mr. Gold.”

Belle noticed the hesitation in his words. “But who are you? Really?”

The man looked at the woman on the bed, and there seemed to be an unspoken conversation between them. In the end, Mr. Gold nodded and the woman stood up.

“Belle,” she said gently. “This is magic. Right now you are in a world that’s different from the world you know. And more than that, you’re in… the future.”

“So you are me?”

“Yes. You are who I was and I’m who you will become, someday.”

“How? And who is he? Who do I get to love me?”

The other Belle bit her lip while she thought of an answer. It was seeing that familiar quirk on another person’s face that convinced her that that face would one day be hers.   
This woman was her, or would be. She had no doubt anymore.

“Belle,” she said again. “This is a different world. And there are different books here. Books… you really can’t even imagine. There are whole different kinds of stories here. One of them is called ‘science fiction.’ It’s hard to explain, but a lot of fun. And in science fiction, there are stories about the past meeting the future–or vice versa. And there are things that people absolutely should not do if they meet themselves in a different time.”

“Such as?”

“Tell too much. If you go back knowing everything you can know from here, it will change the past and that can ruin the future.”

“How do you know I’ll go back?”

“You will,” Mr. Gold said. “Either Rumpelstiltskin will call you back from here, or the magic will fade on its own, or I will have to send you back.”

“How can you send me back? And how did you know…” Belle’s voice faded as she looked at Mr. Gold more closely. “Rumpelstiltskin.”

He nodded, though it might have been a bow. There was just a hint, a whiff, of the theatricality she had come to expect from her master. For the most part, this man seemed subdued. He seemed weighed down by a sadness she had never seen in the Dark One.

The other Belle went to stand by Mr. Gold. She put her hand on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her waist. Their bodies leaned in to each other, so that there was no space between them. They were like one being, one person made up of the two. And they looked so comfortable being together, being one person.

“So it’s real?” Belle asked softly. “I didn’t imagine it? How Rumpelstiltskin… How I…?” She couldn’t quite say the words, not yet. “It’s not just the fevered romance of a silly girl?”

“No,” Belle’s other self answered. Her eyes were misting and her voice broke a little as she spoke. “No, Belle, there is love in your future.”

“My love,” Rumpelstiltskin continued. “I love you, sweetheart. At the time you come from, I haven’t realized it yet. I won’t realize it until it’s almost too late. But I know it now, and you will know it from now on: I love you.”

Silent tears fell from Belle’s eyes. The other Belle broke away from her love, and began to hold her. Belle found herself being comforted by her own arms, held to her own chest, and looking into her own blue eyes. 

“You are so brave,” the other Belle said. “You keep your hope for so long, in the face of terrible adversity—and you deserve to know that happiness will come for you, Belle.” The other Belle—who smelled of strange foreign flowers—kissed her forehead, and held her tightly. They rocked softly together, as Belle cried for no reason she could name.

Belle felt gentle hands on her shoulders, rubbing out the tension in her muscles. “That feels good,” she said.

“I know,” the other Belle answered. “I remember how much I wanted someone to touch me.”

“I wanted him to touch me.”

“Do you want that now?”

Belle choked on a laugh through her tears. “Is that allowable? I would hate to ruin the future.”

The other Belle gave her a squeeze. “It will be alright, sweetheart. You need this.”

Belle took off her gloves and dress while the other Belle slipped off her unbuttoned shirt. “Where is the rest of your corset?” Belle asked, staring at the tight lace that barely covered the other Belle’s breasts.

The other Belle grinned. “Clothing is different in this world. Women don’t feel the need to bind anything but the jiggly bits.”

“Oh,” Belle said. She suddenly felt ridiculous in her stays and petticoats.

“But don’t worry,” the other Belle said as she came in close to unknot the ties that bound her. “There are some looks that are never unfashionable.” Once her skirts were off, the other Belle held the fabric against her body and stood behind her. “Rumple likes dramatic reveals,” she whispered into Belle’s ear.

Mr. Gold had been watching them from the bed. He had removed his clothes, but draped part of a sheet over his lap. They went to him together. When they were in front of him, the other Belle gently released her grip on Belle’s covering, passing the fabric into Belle’s hands. Now it was her choice, what to show and when.

Sitting, Gold looked up at her. “I don’t know how much you want to do, Belle. If you want to remain innocent, if you want to stop at any time, then say one word and I can send you back.”

Belle smiled at the man who was everything and nothing like Rumpelstiltskin. “Say it again,” she asked.

“Which part?”

“My name.”

“Belle,” he repeated. His voice was so reverent, the word seemed like a whispered prayer on his lips.

She let her covering drop to the floor.

His mouth fell open as he looked at her. With tentative hands, he touched her waist, her hips. His fingers brushed against her navel, but he paused before touching more. Belle lifted his head so that he would look at her. There was a strange pleasure to be had from touching the prickly hair on his jaw. What would it be like to feel those prickles against her lips? She bent down to him and found out.

It was a short kiss, her lips just away from his. The next one was longer, and sweeter. His mouth met hers, open and wet. She leaned against him and he held her as they fell back onto the bed. He was touching her arms, her shoulders, her neck. He gazed up at her in adoration. “I love you,” he said.

Belle didn’t know what to say, so she was glad when her other self settled in next to Gold. “I love you as well,” she said. “I remember you, my younger self, and I am so proud of you.”

“Can I kiss you?”

The other Belle nodded. Kissing her was different from kissing Gold. Her face (her own face) was smaller and more delicate. And the other Belle was more eager than Gold to kiss her. She was not reverent, she was ravenous. She pressed herself against Belle’s body, and Belle found herself as willing to touch as to be touched. The other Belle’s body was slightly different than her own (the other Belle was thinner, there was more muscle on her) but it was still the same body a man would touch someday. This man would touch her. Mr. Gold. Rumpelstiltskin.

It was only when Belle was looking at her body from outside it that she realized how much there was to love about it. She had never seen her back in a mirror, never traced the smooth, soft curves of her form with her lips. She had never had her own breasts bouncing in front of her face. At the other Belle’s urging, she put her mouth to one and sucked. It made her wet. It made both of them wet.

Then Belle was on her back with her legs apart and the other Belle between them. She ran her fingers through the other Belle’s hair, as the woman set her mouth between her thighs. She couldn’t perceive exactly what her other self was doing. Whether she was licking or biting or sucking, Belle couldn’t tell. All she felt was the heat of her breath meeting the heat of her loins. She felt the heat, and the pleasure.

Mr. Gold held her body. She lay on his chest while his arms encircled her and his hands roved frantically over her flesh. “I love you, Belle,” he whispered in her ear. Belle turned her head for another wet kiss. She tried to turn her whole body, so that she would be face-to-face with the man who loved her, but the other Belle wouldn’t let her.

“I don’t know how long we’ll have you,” she explained. “And I’ll probably never get to do this again.”

“How long will you stay down there?”

“Until I make you come.”

“Come where?”

“Come apart,” Gold answered. “She wants to see you break into a thousand pieces. I don’t blame her. It’s a beautiful sight.”

“It’ll feel wonderful,” the other Belle said as she looked up from between Belle’s legs.

It did. Belle found her body jerking and thrusting in a way her mind didn’t understand. It felt like an earthquake was happening inside her. There were only two points where she was secured—at her groin and at her shoulders. As the other Belle sent her flying, the man called Gold held her close.

“Belle,” he whispered over and over. “Belle, Belle, Belle.” He grabbed at her breast, and clutched her waist, her arms, her collarbone. His hands were everywhere and his kisses marked her face and his voice saying her name resonated throughout her entire being.

She felt her back arching, higher and higher, but the other Belle stayed with her, continuing to fill her with her tongue. Something inside Belle exploded and she let out a jagged cry before falling back onto Gold. 

After a moment, Belle felt a kiss on her cheek, then on her lips. It was the other Belle. Their mouths opened and they kissed each other. She tasted odd. Not quite salty or sour, but briny, like vinegar. The flavor wasn’t unpleasant, but it was strong. “Is that what I taste like?” Belle asked herself.

Belle nodded. “Can I let Rumple taste now?”

Belle nodded. The other Belle straddled her waist to lean up and kiss Gold the way she had just kissed Belle. He made hungry noises, Belle felt them rumbling in his chest. The kiss was long and passionate, and Belle was happy to let them go at each other. She felt safe between their bodies, content to bask in the glow of happiness she felt.

Eventually, the other Belle broke apart from Gold. She brought Belle up to him, but stayed below his waist. Belle looked at the body she’d been lying on. His manhood was red and erect.

“Oh,” she said softly. She didn’t want to stare, but she had never seen such a thing outside of books.

Belle looked at her own face, her mouth smiling wickedly as it kissed and licked the organ. She was so transfixed by the sight (how would her mouth ever open so wide?) that she nearly jumped when she felt Gold’s hand on her arm.

“Is there anything you want, sweetheart?” he asked her. “Anything we can do to make this better for you?”

“This whole thing is so strange,” she said. “When do we fall in love? When does all this happen?”

“It takes time, my Belle. More time than you would think possible. It isn’t easy. You fight for me, for this love, much more than I deserve. You never stop fighting for me, Belle.” His eyes, as they looked at her, were so warm and so human. Belle brushed back his soft hair.

“Are you really Rumpelstiltskin? Are you inside him?”

“At the moment, he’s inside me,” the other Belle said as she lunged in between them. Her legs were spread over Gold’s waist and there was no space between their two bodies.

“You bring out what’s good in me,” Gold said as calmly as he could manage under the circumstances. “You are so good, and so brave, and so selfless…”

“Not that selfless,” the other Belle said with her eyes closed. “Remember, Belle, he brings out the good for you too.” She thrust deep and hard against Gold’s body. After a moment, her face scrunched up. Belle could see the passion clench its way from Belle’s groin through her spine and out her mouth in a triumphant shout.

“Good?” Gold asked her.

“Good!” 

_“Good.”_

The word seemed to have secret meaning for Gold and the other Belle. It was a code, a signal. The other Belle went onto her back, and Gold rolled on top of her. Their bodies stayed connected, and they kissed and groped in a mad frenzy. Belle chewed on her lower lip and lay back to look at them.

As she watched, a purple mist began to tint the edges of Belle’s vision. The mist throbbed and pulsed in a rhythm that was steady, and steadily growing faster. After a moment, Belle realized that this rhythm perfectly matched the rhythm of Mr. Gold thrusting into the other Belle’s body. It was probably magic, if Gold really was Rumpelstiltskin. It was connected to him. Every time he pushed into the other Belle, his magic pushed at her.

“I’m going back,” she said softly. They didn’t hear her. The other Belle was shouting again, and Gold’s thrusts were becoming faster and deeper. The mist was overtaking Belle’s vision, the thick purple blocking out any other sight. The last thing she heard was a cry of pleasure from Mr. Gold. The last she saw of the couple was them kissing each other, and then breaking apart and smiling.

****

When she could see again, Belle saw that she was back in the tower. She might have thought the whole adventure had been a dream, except that she was naked and her skin still had the residue of sweat and saliva and other fluids that came with vigorous lovemaking. Her dress and the gear she had been wearing were in a disorderly pile at her feet. When she looked at the liquid on the table, Belle saw that it had evaporated, leaving only a purple dust where the silver had been.

She sighed and began to dress. It was bitter to know that she would never go back to that place and time. But it was sweet to think that one day she would be the other Belle, the older Belle, the Belle that was so confident and so certain of being loved. It was a certainty that Belle could feel inside herself now. She had seen into her future, and she had found love there.

Smiling and humming to herself, Belle finished cleaning the tower. She took her cart to the stairs, went down to the main floor, and opened the door to find Rumpelstiltskin on the other side.

“Oh!” they both said at the same time. It was clear that he had been intending to go in right as Belle had come out.

“Sorry,” Belle said. She looked at the ground so that he wouldn’t see any change in her face.

“It’s fine, fine,” Rumple said before his words drifted away. He peered at Belle. He had to know she was keeping a secret.

“So you’re back?” Belle asked brightly.

“That I am.” Rumplestiltskin would not be distracted. He smelled the air around Belle, leaned in to sniff around her hair. “What were you doing up there, dearie?” he whispered. 

Belle looked steadily into his eyes. They were black, mostly, with only the slightest flecks of Gold in them. “What were you trying to make?”

They stared at each other in an almost-challenge. This morning, Belle would have broken first, too discouraged to bother fighting him. But now she was emboldened, and it was the Dark One who bent to her will. He looked away.

“It was supposed to be a window between worlds,” he said with a gesture. “But it didn’t show me what I wanted to see.”

“I looked into it,” Belle admitted. “The window. It worked for me.”

“I didn’t say it didn’t work,” he snapped. “But what I saw was of no use to me.” He spared a moment to look at Belle, before he shut the door and went into the tower.

Alone in the hall, Belle found herself grinning. “It will be, someday,” she said to the door. “And it will be wonderful.”


End file.
